Behind The Curtain
by FlyingMockingjay56
Summary: Because behind every strong man, there is a stronger woman. Katniss Everdeen is the finance and fundraising chair of Peeta Mellark's first Congressional campaign. In politics where image is everything and the truth means nothing, Peeta Mellark finally finds someone he would risk everything for. Modern Day, AU.
1. Chapter 1

February 2014

I smoothed my skirt, tucked a stray hair behind my ear and glanced at the big clock on the wall about one hundred times before I hear a voice call, "Katniss Everdeen?" into the waiting room. I follow the small brunette down the hallway, the sound of my heels clicking against the floor matching my rapid heart beat. As I spot the mahogany door, I suddenly begin to question whether running away was an option.

Stepping into the room, I stick out my hand and force the most charming smile I can. "Hi, I'm Katniss Everdeen."

The two men exchange glances, raising their eyebrows before shaking hands. The young one turns to me with a smile saying, "Well then, let's get started."

I try not to be intimidated by the two men who could be my future bosses, but it's hard not to be in awed about sitting next to the people you talked about in your Urban Politics class. Sitting across the desk from me is the infamous Haymitch Abernathy, who had managed the campaign of one of the biggest political upsets in Maryland history. After running of the campaign of Maysilee Donner, he rose to fame after she narrowly beat the Maryland senator serving his fourth term.

Everyone knows he's a genius, and unfortunately, a bit of an asshole.

The man siting next to me is possibly the most handsome man I've ever seen. Every inch of him is perfect, from his angular jaw to his perfectly coiffed hair. If someone told me he was a model instead of a financial analyst, I would believe them. Finnick Odair graduated from Stanford business school magna cum laude, immediately working for a big fortune 500 company straight out of college until recently, when he decided to work on the campaign of his best friend and old college roommate.

"Tell me about yourself," Haymitch asks, his voice gruff.

I take my folders out of my purse, handing both Mr. Odair and Mr. Abernathy a copy of my resume. "Like I said my name is Katniss Everdeen, I am 26, and I graduated last year from Georgetown University where I majored in business and finance, and minored in political science. I have spent this year working at several non-profit organizations, but my most recent job was working at a company managing and writing grants that builds parks, museums and community centers in urban areas."

"Impressive," Finnick casually remarks while reading over my resume. I try not squeal as he sends me a small smile. Haymitch takes a long sip of the whiskey he has been nursing since before I walked in, maintaing steady eye contact with me. Finnick starts to rummage through his pile of papers until he finds the one with my recommendation on it. "And a recommendation from Dr. Charles Aurelius? I wrote my thesis on one of his books."

"Thank you!" I say as I feel the nervousness melting away. "If you ever get a chance, I strongly recommend sitting in on one of his classes. You've never seen anything like it."

Haymitch put down his glass, motioning for Finnick to continue. "So tell me Ms. Everdeen, why do you want to work on Peeta Mellark's first congressional campaign?"

I squeeze my eyes for a second to remember the points I came up with on the train ride to the office. "I've seen the work he has done in his community back in Philadelphia, like putting more funds to public projects, advocating for tax breaks for small businesses, and I think it's all great. To see him have a chance to make those changes on a national level would be wonderful and lending my skills to help that would be a privilege."

"I see here that you grew up in Bakersfield, Pennsylvania?" I nod, knowing Mr. Odair's next question before it even left his mouth. "Same town as Peeta, no?"

I smile, feeling Mr. Abernathy's gaze watching me tuck that pesky hair behind my ear once again. "Yes, we did actually. He and his brothers were several years older than me, but Peeta was a senior when I was a freshman at the local high school. However, my feelings and support towards this campaign are completely separate and not influenced."

"Good to hear that," Finnick said at he jotted down a note on the corner of the paper. "Well, to fill you in on what is going on here, basically we want Peeta to win Alma Coin's spot in the House of Representatives. This is her 3rd term representing the 13th district, and she is slowing down Northeast Philadelphia with her out-dated and over aggressive policies. We're selling Peeta as a young, left-leaning kid who is ready to move up from City Council to House of Representatives."

"I couldn't agree more," I interject excitedly.

I see Haymitch sigh and sit back in his chair. I match his gaze, not daring to look away. Finnick looks at him too, unsure whether or not to continue. When he opens his mouth, I brace myself. "There are thousands of people who are older and more experienced who want this job just as much as you do. Why should we pick you?"  
For the first time, I feel my confidence start to waver. I know I should stop and think for a second, but the words just come tumbling out of my mouth. "You should pick me because I'm not only good at what I do, but I'm passionate. Numbers and figures are easy, but motivating people to donate to your cause is the hard part. People want to make sure their money is being well spent, and I am willing to guarantee that by working closely with non-profits to stage original, and interesting fundraisers."

Haymitch scoffed, chuckling to himself. "Sweetheart, it's going to take a lot more than willpower to make a congressional campaign happen."

The smile falls from my face as a snarky remark rolls off my tongue before I can stop it. "Then that's exactly the reason why you need to hire me." I scold myself internally as Haymitch raises his eyebrows in surprise. If he didn't think so before, he definitely sees me as arrogant and overconfident. "Sorry," I mumble sheepishly.

Finnick flashes me a smile from the chair next to me. "No need to apologize, _sweetheart_," he says with a wink. I feel my stomach tighten as I watch the interview go downhill.

I try to read Haymitch's body language as he scribbles some notes on a piece of paper. Minutes feel like hours when he finally looks back up at me. "So Ms. Everdeen, how soon can you be in Philadelphia?"

I look to both of them in disbelief. "I got the job?"

Haymitch extends his hand, and I accept it gladly. "Welcome to Mellark 2014."

* * *

"You're kidding right? If you're not kidding I _really_ think I'm going to need another drink," Madge Undersee declares, rubbing her temple with her left and holding my hand across the table with her right. I solemnly nod, letting out a big sigh.

While working for Peeta's campaign was an opportunity I never dreamed of, it also meant leaving behind my life in D.C. Since I arrived on the Georgetown campus 8 years ago, Washington D.C. has been my home. Madge was my roommate freshman year, and we quickly bonded over music, booze, and our love for peace and quiet.

"It kills me to leave but John Hopkins is only a 2 hour drive from Philadelphia. You and Gale can come visit me every weekend." Madge's eyes lit up at the mention of her boyfriend, Gale. They had been dating ever since she went to John Hopkins to get her masters in teaching, where he was a TA for her intro to psychology class.

"I know I'm acting sad, but you know I'm so proud of you," she cooed before taking a sip of her beer. I study her face as I do the same. "Peeta Mellark is the hot one right? If he's single, you should definitely pull an Olivia Pope and hit that." She piped, her expression completely serious.

I burst out laughing, nearly choking on my drink. Madge cracks up watching me struggle, and soon our usual light mood is back. "Are you drunk?" I ask, once I regain composure. "Because I know I'm not drunk, and I _really_ wanna get drunk. Shots are on me."

* * *

I wake up in the morning in my downtown apartment, regretting almost every decision I made the night before. Madge was curled up next to me in my bed, makeup from last night still smudged on her face. It was the same arrangement we always had in college, where after a night of drinking we would come home to whoever's house was closer (and it always ended up being mine) to sleep, and whoever woke up first had to make breakfast (which once again, was usually me).

I rub the salt out of my eyes before picking up my computer from the nightstand to check my emails. My eyes quickly scan through them, my heart skipping a beat when I see one from Haymitch. I open it, reading every word twice.

HAbernathy

Hello Katniss,

As discussed in the meeting, we are going to need you to relocate to the Philadelphia area to help with the campaign. We understand that moving is difficult, so we here at Mellark 2014 are wiling to offer you a three week stay at the Four Seasons hotel in Philadelphia. At the end of those three weeks, if a rental has been found, we would like to subsidize the cost by $1,000 per month. In return however, we do ask that you join us here by next week. Please let me know if this is possible.

Hands shaking, I quickly type out a response.

KEverdeen

Thank you so much for your offer! I will start arraigning my relocation as soon as possible, and will see you in Philadelphia next week.

I cover my mouth with my hand after pressing send. Madge moans and moves around in the bed, looking up at me with her eyes half closed. "Shouldn't you be making breakfast?" She croaked, throat completely dry.

"I just got offered a three week stay at a hotel, and a thousand bucks off my rent. Holy fucking shit," I whisper, my mouth still open in surprise.

Madge opened her eyes for a second, mouth forming an "o" before lying her head back down on the pillow. "I'm a little too hungover and it's a little too early for me to be completely excited for you. But congratulations, I love you, I'm going back to sleep."

The next few days go by in a blur. I spend the days writing emails and having phone calls with all my current organizations, explaining my situation. I spend my nights looking up possible apartments to rent eating takeout with Madge, or researching more about the campaign, but more specifically Peeta Mellark.

I vaguely knew him as the popular, smart, athletic kid who got a full ride scholarship to Stanford his senior year. It was big talk around the small town of Bakersfield, where everyone either goes to an in-state college, or doesn't even bother with getting their degree.

I hadn't kept up with his activities after high school, but when my comparative politics teacher Dr. Aurelius suggested I work on his congressional campaign, I wasn't surprised to hear the name.

The night before I was scheduled to leave, I sit down, and take a look around my empty apartment. All the furniture is stored in a storage facility, save for an air mattress and all my clothes in boxes and suitcases to take with me. _This is it_, I think to myself. 8 years in this wonderful and occasionally shitty city.

My phone lights up with a text from Madge, reminding me how much she loves me in case I forgot in the past three hours. Looking at the late hour, I turn off my phone, turn off the lights, and try to sleep, dreams of my future bouncing around in my head.

* * *

Hi guys! Very classic me, starting a new story when Promises hasn't been updated in a month. I haven't forgotten about it, I've just been super busy.

I've been watching a lot of Scandal recently, which sort of inspired this story. This chapter was so short because I wanted to figure out how you guys felt about it before developing it into something longer. So please, leave reviews, favorite, follow, I want to know if I should keep writing this.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to all the people who have reviewed, followed and favorited! I think I'm going to continue this story, I've got the next couple of chapters already outlined. Keep reading, I promise you won't regret it.

I also am not so good with tenses, so I'm sorry if I switch back and forth sometimes but I think this chapter is pretty consistent. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

I glanced at my watch for the hundredth time, afraid of being late for my first committee meeting. Turning the corner, I didn't even register the tall blonde until I was walking straight into him, dropping my files and papers everywhere. "I'm so sorry," we stuttered at the same. I immediately got down to pick everything up, irritated that I was now running 5 minutes behind schedule.

"It was totally my fault," he offered, kneeling on the ground to help me collect my scattered items. "Glad it's not coffee because then I'd be obligated to take you out for a new one."

I scowled, snatching the papers from his hand while searching for a pen. "So am I, especially because I'm already late."

"And hey look, now we're both late. Where are you heading?" As this stranger extended a hand to help me up, I was stunned silent when I realized he was far from one. He looked surprised too, but regained his composure instantly the way all good politicians do. "Katniss Everdeen," he breathed, running a hand through his hair. "Never thought I'd see you again."

I felt his eyes glance over me once, making me suddenly aware of my black blouse, green blazer and black pencil skirt hidden under a dark pea coat.

"Mr. Mellark," I said quickly, my face heating up in embarrassment. Had I really just snapped at the man whose campaign I would be working on for the next 8 months? "Nice to finally meet you," I said in an attempt to regain some professionalism.

"Mr. Mellark is my dad. You can call me Peeta," he suggested while nodding in the direction of the hotel elevators. I followed, speeding to keep up with his long strides. "You never answered my question from before. Where are you heading?" He asked, in an attempt to make small talk while the elevator descended from the 16th to the 12th floor.

I gave him a confused look, but his genuine smile gave no indication that he was joking. "To a meeting with you, actually. I'm you're new fundraising chair."

That one clearly caught him by surprise, because the elevator arrived before he was even able to form a response. "Oh wow," he managed to get out as we stepped into the elevator. "Shows you how much I know about my own campaign," he joked, trying to play off his lack of knowledge.

I laughed along, not only because he was my boss, but because of the pink tint that started to spread across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose that I couldn't help but admit was cute. Seeing him in person was much different than looking up pictures online – online, you couldn't see the freckles that lined his nose, or how when he smiles, his whole face lights up. "Don't even worry about it, it was all on pretty short notice," I offerd, trying to distract myself. I hated to admit it, but Madge was right. Peeta was very attractive.

Dressed fairly casually in a tailored blue button down and khaki slacks, I spotted evidence of free time spent in the gym in his arms that looked like they could carry a hundred briefcases. His haircut was professional but youthful, slightly messy from his habit to run his hands through it. His words brought me out of my daze.

"So what brings you here to my campaign? You know, aside from my good looks and boyish charm?" His last words caught me off guard. Did he catch me staring at his arms, or subtly checking out his dimples?

I faltered. "Uh, um, what did you say?"

Peeta rubbed the back of his neck, the blush returning. "Oh I'm sorry, was that inappropriate to say? I've been hanging around interns for weeks, and they laugh at pretty much anything I say." The elevator opened at the lobby, and I felt slightly relieved to make my escape.

"Well, I'm going to take the SEPTA, so I guess I'll catch you at the office," I called behind me as I tried to speed to the entrance. A two minute conversation with my boss, and I had already managed to embarrass myself three times. But just as quickly as I tried to lose him, Peeta caught up with me.

He flashed me the grin that got him elected to the Philadelphia City Council. "Oh man, what a coincidence, I take the SEPTA too!"

I shivered as the cold air hit my face. Warm D.C. weather was one of things I missed the most. I gave Peeta a look of disbelief as we walked side by side to the subway. "Ok, you can't blame me for that one. We're staying at the four seasons. Your management team has offered me money for rent. I've seen your finances. I think it's reasonable for me to assume that you would get driven to work every day."

He shrugged, giving me indication that I was probably right. "And while I do have a preference for private cars, traffic in this city is terrible," he remarked, emphasizing the last word. "Plus, Haymitch thinks that if voters see me taking the train just like them, they'll be able to relate to me more."

I nodded with a smile. "Taking a page from the Bloomberg book, I see. I hope you know how lucky you are to have Haymitch as your campaign manager, he is truly a political genius." Peeta scoffed at my remark as we turned the corner.

"You think I don't? Everything I've done so far was thanks to him. I couldn't have beat out Brutus Rockwell for his city council seat without him. He's a smart guy who also hires smart people."

Peeta's subtle compliment almost flew over my head, but I sent him a small smile in return as we ducked into the subway. I expected it to be similar to the D.C. metrorail, but I froze as we entered the station. Peeta stopped a few feet in front of me, giving me a confused look as he pulled out his farecard. "I have no idea how to ride this. How to I buy a metrocard? Where is the station attendant?"

He playfully rolled his eyes at my moment of stupidity. "Wow, good thing you ran into me or else you would have been completely clueless. We're already late so you can just swipe in with mine, but how about I show you around the city and how to work the SEPTA sometime?" I raised my eyebrows skeptically.

"Do you not have a campaign to run? Or a job as city councilor to do?" He shrugged, handing me his subway pass.

"I mean, it's still February. I've already declared my intent to run. It's all behind the scenes stuff until the primaries in May - race really heats up in the summer. You and Finnick are only here because money is the most important part of the campaign, to be honest. But I actually do have to swing by city hall at some point in time today to do some work. I'm trying to get a park built in North Philly," he casually remarked as we waited for the train.

I keep myself from gasping, but his last words sparked my interest. "A park?" I asked, trying not to seem too interested.

"Yeah, some developers are trying to turn this beautiful strip of forest into one of those huge chain restaurants. I'm trying to work out a compromise where the land gets turned into a park, but where they have sole licensing for food trucks and such," he explained nonchalantly. I looked at him in awe, surprised that someone could care enough about a park to try and fight big developers with lots of money.

The station slowly filled up as people waited for the next train to North Philadelphia, scheduled to arrive in two minutes. "That's really great, I've always had a soft spot for parks and forests."

He looked at me with a small smile. "That makes sense, considering that you were the winner of Bakerfield's junior hunting championships in what, 2002? All the boys in town were sore about it for days because they got their asses kicked by a girl." A loud horn signaled the arrival of the metro.

I studied Peeta's face as we boarded the train. "I can't believe you remember that," I said incredulously. "I was a freshman, so you must have been a senior? To be honest, I didn't know anybody even knew I existed in high school." My mind flashed back to lunches spent alone in the cafeteria, trying to get ahead on my work I knew I wouldn't have time to finish at home.

"You know, you miss a lot of things when you're not looking," he said distractedly as the train lurched into motion. I let his cryptic words pass, waiting for him to get out of his daze. Eventually he turned back to me eventually, the same chirpy focused Peeta he was before. "So Katniss, tell me how you've been?"

By the time Peeta and I walked into his campaign office 25 minutes later, I had to admit that he was every bit as charming as everyone said he was. He could spin any uncomfortable silence into laughter, and turn any boring story interesting. But as we walked through the door, I noticed a subtle change. As interns ran to him for his signature on some papers, or asked him his opinion on an idea, he was no longer the Peeta whose cheeks would turn pink while telling an embarrassing story. He was Mr. Mellark, the young business and city councilman who was running for the House of Representatives.

"Glad you two finally decided to grace us with your presence," Haymitch's deep voice called out, grabbing our attention. He was leaning against the wall just past the receptionist, stack of papers in one hand and coffee in the other. "We're all waiting in conference room C."

Once we were all seated around the big round table, I looked around at the people I would be working with for the next 9 months. Haymitch made no motion to do introductions, but I was sure they had looked me up on the internet the same was I had looked them up. To my right was Johanna Mason, the campaign's technology chair. Her short brown hair and permanent frown gave her an unapproachable vibe, but Peeta had mentioned on the train that she works best alone. Next to her was Delly Cartwright, the loud and overbearing head of the field department. She was responsible for interacting with voters on a local level – running phone banks, canvasses, and other smaller events.

To my left was Finnick, looking as handsome as ever in a perfectly tailored navy suit. He and Peeta were huddled together closely, appearing to be deep in a serious conversation. On the other side of Peeta was Effie, whose over-exaggerated makeup and bright clothes made me question how she found her way into politics in the first place. She was the communications/publicity manager, taking care of all of Peeta's public events and media portrayal.

Directly across from me was Haymitch, who winked at me before banging his fist on the table. Everyone jumped in their seats, immediately turning their attention to him as he stood up. "Welcome everybody to our first committee meeting," he boomed, looking everyone in the eye before continuing. "We have a lot of business to get done, so let me get straight to the point. It is currently February 8th, primaries are held on May 20th and elections are on November 4th. That means we have 4 months to get the democratic nomination, and 10 to win Alma Coin's seat in the House of Representatives. Right now, our goal is to get the Democratic nomination over Enobaria Willis, who is, as I'm sure you all know is cutthroat and will do everything in her power to win. However, all that means is that we have to be even more aggressive. Polls are showing that Peeta Mellark has very little name recognition." I caught Peeta wrinking his nose out of the corner of my eye. "Do any of you guys have any suggestions to change that?"

Everyone looked around at each other as Haymitch opened the floor for discussion. Johanna spoke first, her voice confident. "I think we should start with an ad campaign in the district, so while people are watching TV they can see Peeta's face and connect it to the name."

Finnick flipped through a couple of papers before speaking. "TV ads are way more expensive than you think, plus they're becoming way less cost effective with the inventions of Netflix and Hulu. As of now we have about one hundred and fifty grand in donations from private companies. I think that we shouldn't be spending more than 20 grand on advertising that may not be cost effective." He turned to me. "Katniss, thoughts?"

I widened my eyes as everyone turned their attention to me. I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm my nerves. Why was I even nervous? I had spent days outlining various ideas, just in case someone asked me. "I think that we should try an event that both creates name recognition and is inexpensive, something like a charity day of play at the Old Pines Community Center. Its family friendly, and we could do ice skating and mini basketball tournaments. I've already called for a quote and they said they would do it for a discounted price of $1,000 provided we advertise their summer program on the flyers. We'd charge a base price of seventy five dollars per family of four, then add 15 for each additional kid. It's minimal organization and pretty low cost, I'm sure we could host it in less than a month."

Everyone in the room was silent for a second, mulling over my idea. I caught Peeta giving me a big smile, slowly nodding his head in approval. Johanna looked at me with distain, annoyed that her idea had been flat out rejected.

"Plus," I continued. "It gives the children of the community something active to do in this cold weather. All we need is Delly to round up some volunteers to supervise the kids and serve food to the adults, and I can call some local restaurants to see if they would like to cater. Johanna can update the website and social media, and Finnick and I can make sure some major donors stop by. All Peeta has to do is show up, and look pretty."

"Does anybody have any objections to sweetheart's plan?" Haymitch asked, looking around the circle. When he received no replies, he gave me a smug smile. "Ms. Everdeen, you now have your first task of the Mellark 2014 campaign. For all issues regarding the Old Pines Day of Play, you may all report directly to her. Next topic."


	3. Chapter 3

My second meeting of the day involved meeting all of my interns, who for the most part were over achieving high school students who wanted real life political experience. I sat at my desk as they stood in front of me. "Hi all of you, I'm Katniss Everden. I grew up in Bakersfield which is about a 2 hour drive from here, then I attended Georgetown for undergrad where I majored in economics and minored in political science. Tell me about yourselves?" I try to keep my tone light after seeing the sheens of sweat on some of the other interns' foreheads. There were 3 of them, 1 girl and 2 boys.

One of the boys, tall and blonde, spoke first. "Hi, I'm Cato Pickard. I'm 17, I'm Secretary General of Model UN at North Philly High School. My dad is editor in chief of the Philadelphia Inquirer." He oozed confidence in a way that only a boy who has been told he was special his whole life could, evident in his confident stance and smug smile.

Basically, I would have hated him in high school.

"Nice to meet you Cato. Next?" I said, trying to stay professional. I motioned for the other boy to step forward.

"I'm Marvel Pitt, and I'm a senior at Susan B. Anthony High School and I got in early decision to University of Virginia." I could tell he was nervous by the way he clasped and unclasped his hands tightly behind his back.

I look him up and down, nodding my head to make him feel better. "Impressive," I mummer.

"I'm captain of the debate team and Euro-Challenge, which is where we discuss the effects of the Euro on the global economy. SBAHS has won the Pennsylvania division for the past 4 years." He steps back and I see a petite raven haired girl, her dark eyes contrasting with her pale skin.

She stepped forward, giving me a small smile. "My name is Clove Mathis, I also attend North Philly High School, but I'm a sophomore. I am co-president of my school's Young Democrats club, and I am the class of 2016 Term Council president." She stepped backwards, not taking her eyes off of me. There was something about her that caught me off guard. I could tell from her demeanor that she was quiet, but calculating.

I clapped. "Well I'm so excited to have you guys here. Working on this campaign will give you valuable experience if you ever want to go into politics." I feel my stomach rumble, and glance at the clock above the door. "But it's about lunch time right now, so why don't you guys go get lunch and we'll meet back here in an hour and a half. Sound good?"

"Do you want us to get you anything?" Marvel offers, eager to please me.

I chuckle, finally understanding what Peeta was saying about his interns. "I'm good, thanks. But thank you for offering, I might take you up on that offer in the future."

As they file out of the office, I follow and duck into the women's bathroom before heading to the break room. Right as I was finishing up in the stall, I heard two loud voices enter the bathroom. I paused, my ears perking up at their conversation.

"I mean God, she walks in here, it's her first day and acts like she's all that. Who the fuck does she think she is?" It was Johanna's voice, and from the amount of nastiness, I figured she was talking about me. I froze.

"Oh I'm Katniss Everdeen, and I specialize in wearing skirts in the winter and making up dumb ideas," a voice that I recognized as Delly's mocked. They both cackled, their laughs filling the bathroom. My heart sunk to my feet. My dad always told me there would be mean girls everywhere, but this was the last place I thought I'd find them. "And did you see the way she walked in with Peeta? She literally disgusts me."

Sadness turns to anger as I hear my colleagues talk about me. Why do they get to talk about my character, knowing nothing about me? I take a deep breath before I push the stall door open and walk out, the biggest smile I could muster on my face. They froze, Delly dropping the tube of lip-gloss she was reapplying on the ceramic sink. "Do you guys know where the best place to get lunch around here is?" I ask, trying to keep my tone sweet instead of biting.

They both stammered, Johanna regaining composure first. "Uh, um, there's a Panera on North Broad street that's pretty good," she says as I wash and dry my hands.

"Thanks for the suggestion, maybe I'll check it out," I call out behind me as I leave the bathroom, fighting back tears.

I keep it together until I reach my office, closing the door before the tears start rolling down my face. I internally scold myself, angry that I would let two petty women get to me. Blotting my eyes, I'm thankful for my decision to wear waterproof mascara this morning. I sit in my chair and take deep breaths, willing the tears to stop.

It's 12:30 by the time I hear a knock on the door. "Hold on a second!" I call, frantically pushing the tissues into a trash can while fanning my red face. "Come in!" I shout, blowing my nose one last time.

Finnick pops his bronze head in, raising his eyebrows at my appearance. "Oh, I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" He sounds genuine, and I shake my head no with a smile.

"No, you're ok. What's up?" I ask, trying to find my notepad on my desk of papers.

Finnick sat down on the corner of my desk. "I came here to ask if you had read this article in the Economist this morning, but I see that clearly something else is happening. I can smell office drama a mile away."

I shake my head again, this time with a sniffle. "It's not drama, I'm just overreacting. I overheard Delly and Johanna talking about me in the bathroom, that's all."

Finnick sighed, as if he was not surprised by their behavior. "I'm sorry Katniss. To be honest, they're just jealous that your idea became the first major assignment. I know Delly has been hinting that she wants to work with me for weeks now, but she doesn't have the qualifications that you do."

Hearing that caused an involuntary smile to spread across my face. "I know, I know. It's just so high school, you know? I just really thought I left that petty drama behind when I graduated in 2006."

Finnick hopped off my desk. "You know what, let's get something to eat. Anything you want, my treat." I was almost stunned by his friendliness. When I agreed to work on this campaign, I thought all people would be like Delly and Johanna – bitchy, and self-absorbed. But to see Finnick be so nice to me even though he barely knew me made it more bearable.

"Thank you," I said, hoping he could feel my gratefulness. "Are there any good Thai places around here? If there's anything I miss about D.C., it's the food."

He places the order for delivery as we walk over to his office, keeping up a conversation as we settle into the plush chairs. He asks me about my life, genuinely interested in my responses. I tell him about how small and shitty Bakersfield was, and how Peeta inspired me to work hard and get out of town. I mention my sister, and how she was currently studying at Columbia's nursing program.

Finnick talks about growing up in California, and it doesn't surprise me at all when he tells me that he wanted to become a fisherman instead of a businessman. He talks about meeting Peeta, and how when he asked him to work on his campaign he knew he couldn't refuse. "Plus the interns are pretty cute too," he said in his what I was seeing to be classic womanizer voice.

"Oh shit!" I exclaim, his comment jogging my memory. "I told my interns we'd meet back at my office at 1:30. What time is it?" Finnick checked the time on his big expensive watch.

"1:45," he said with a chuckle. "Don't worry about them, they'll be fine," he assured me as I packed up my half eaten pad-thai.

"Thank you so much for lunch," I said for the hundredth time while walking backwards to the door.

He waved me off, acknowledging my graditude. "My pleasure. We'll do it again sometimes. But remember," he warned. "Don't let certain people in this office get to you. They're not worth it, and everyone is really glad to have you here."

I look behind me and wave as I walk out, walking directly into a strong blond for the second time today. "We've got to stop running into each other, I'm starting to think you have something against me," Peeta joked, adjusting his tie as I laughed.

"Didn't they teach you at Stanford that running into your boss is the only affective way to get him to notice you?" I responded light heartedly as we walked down the corridor to my office.

Peeta laughed, his head tipped back and his smile wide. "Well, mission accomplished." I give him a questioning look, but he doesn't elaborate. He then turns his attention to my hands, raising his eyebrows at the container of takeout. "Tiny Thai, right? I swear it's the best Thai food in all of Philly."

"Yeah, Finnick picked the place. I'm still trying to get a feel of Philadelphia food, which I have to admit is a lot better than I expected." At the found of Finnick's name I see Peeta wrinkle his nose.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking over my shoulder as we arrived outside of my office. "Lunch with Finnick? Hope you know half of the interns would kill to be you," he remarked with a shrug of his shoulders. I couldn't place the tone of his voice, but it was different from the Peeta I had rode the train with.

"Ugh," I say with a shudder. "Not my type. Too perfect you know? It's kind of weird." I visibly see Peeta exhale, nodding in agreement. "But yeah, he only offered to buy me lunch because I overheard Delly and Johanna talking about me and was pretty upset about it."

Peeta looked at me with surprise. "Delly and Johanna? Doesn't surprise me, they'll talk about anything and anyone with a pulse." He leaned in to whisper in my ear. "But next time they ever give you trouble, give me a call and I'll let them know who's really boss around here," he whispered with a wink.

"Will do Councilman Mellark. I'll see you later." As he turned around I smiled to myself, happy to know I've made at least two friends at the office.

* * *

My first two weeks working on the campaign are a blur. I go to bed late and wake up early, trying to fit in as much work as I can into all the hours of the day. I thought I knew what to expect when I was assigned to manage the first major assignment on the campaign, but what I was doing was far from it. The first lesson that I learned was that people are flaky, the second, that if you want something done right you have to do it yourself.

I barely have enough time in the day to think about myself for a minute, let alone look for somewhere to live; so I was ecstatic when Finnick approved my request to extend my stay at the hotel. Not only did living there mean being close to the subway and therefore close to work, it also meant being close to Peeta. It started as a nice gesture, but once he figured out I was much friendlier and responsive with a cup of coffee in hand, it became daily habit for him to wait for me outside my door with a coffee from the food truck outside the hotel. In return, I would brief him on the Philadelphia Times articles I read every morning.

On the days he went to city hall in the mornings, he would always swing by the office later in the afternoon for debriefs, photo shoots, strategy meetings, or whatever else Haymitch and Effie called him in to do. On those days, we'd take the train home together, him insisting that "only freaks ride the SEPTA past 10," and that I needed to be more careful.

Late nights became even later nights at the office as I began to finalize everything for the day of play at the Community Center. I even befriend the security guard, Darius, so he'll let me sneak in the office over the weekends.

The Sunday before the event, I shoved my papers in my purse, hurrying to get to the office. I wanted to get in and out as soon as possible, but my plan was thwarted as I bumped into Peeta while waiting for the elevator. "Hey!" He said, his face lighting up. I tried to keep my eyes level with his, but I couldn't help but stare at the way his cotton t-shirt stretched across his chest, tight against his broad shoulders. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead, making it clear that he just had a very intense session at the gym.

"Oh hey Peeta," I stutter. "What's up?" The elevator closes behind him as he takes his earbuds out of his ears.

Peeta shrugged. "This campaign is messing up my eating habits so I've been trying to spend more time in the Gym. But the more important question is where are you going?" He questioned, emphasizing the 'you.'

"You know, just going out for breakfast." I try to remain casual, but as he judges my work pants and blouse, I can tell he doesn't believe me for a second.

He scoffs at my attempt to lie. "C'mon, don't tell me you're going to the office? It's Sunday, you're supposed to spend it doing something you enjoy."

I roll my eyes at him before reaching around him to press the elevator again. "What I enjoy, is trying to get you elected. So if you'll excuse me, I'm heading over to the office to get some work done." I see the gears in his head turning as he tries to think of an excuse not to let me go.

"I have an idea. I've seen you these past few weeks and you've been really stressed and I feel bad because its all for me and my campaign. There's this really cool thing in City Center that I really think you would appreciate. We can go, and if you don't like it I'll let you go to the office, no complaints." He leans forward on his toes, biting his lip.

I contemplate his offer, considering how much work I have to do today that I'd be putting off until tomorrow against how nice it would be to spend the day with Peeta. I cave with a big sigh, the image of Peeta's arm muscles tempting me strongly. "This 'thing' you're talking about better be worth it, because God knows I'm going to have to spend all day tomorrow working."

"Great!" He exclaimed, appearing to be genuinely excited to spend time with his fundraising chair. "I'm going to go take a shower, but I'll swing by your room as soon as I'm done and we can go. I want to keep it a surprise, but I promise, you're gonna love it."

A man of his word, 20 minutes later I hear a knock at my door. "Hold on a second!" I call as I check my appearance in the mirror one more time. I was unsure if my light wash jeans and black boots were appropriate for whatever location we were going, but I hope for the best as I shrug on my jacket.

Peeta is the most casual I've ever seen him in jeans, a button down, and an easygoing smile. "Ready to go?" He asks, hands in his pocket.

"I hope this mystery destination is fun because I don't think I've spent a minute on myself since before I got hired for this job." I mention as we walk towards the elevator.

He gave me an assured smile. "I promise, it will be. I'm only keeping it a secret so you'll be in awe when you see it."

Conversation flowed easily as we walked down to the subway – him sharing stories about life in Bakersfield, and me filling him in about what happened after he left. We compare California to D.C., and he claims that you've never really lived until you've tried In-n-Out while I say that you can't die without seeing a D.C. sunset.

"Now will you tell me where you're taking me?" I ask as we emerge from the metro in downtown Philly.

"We're like two blocks away. Close your eyes, and don't look." He urges, leading me by the arm. I oblige, his boyish smile reason enough. He covers my eyes, not letting go until I feel us walk through a set of large double doors. "Open your eyes."

I let out a large gasp as I take in my surroundings. We were surrounded by flowers and plants of all different shapes and sizes, the banner above me reading, "Philadelphia Flower Show 2014." Peeta stood next to me, visibly pleased that I appreciated his surprise. "How'd you know I love flowers?"

"Total shot in the dark," he says with a hint of sarcasm. I pulled him inside the second doors by the arm, eager to get inside. "There's one other thing I want you to see." My eyes follow to where he is pointing, and my jaw drops open in surprise. There in the corner was a katniss plant, with a big sign above it saying, "PFS Flower of the year." "It's your year," he whispers to me, smiling.

Overcome with his thoughtfulness, I wrap my arms around him in replacement of the hundred thank yous I want to say. We stand like that for a second, before I suddenly remember he is my boss and I jump away. "Thank you so much Peeta. This is so thoughtful of you."

He looks at me sheepishly, that familiar red tint spreading across his cheeks. "It's no big deal," he says in an attempt to play it off. "I'm just glad you like it."

We spend the rest of the morning at the flower show, afterwards deciding to sit down for sushi at a place around the corner. I never end up getting any work done, so when I walk into work the next morning and see Delly waiting by my office, I know I'm not in the mood to deal with her.

"Good morning Delly," I say, digging around in my purse for my keys. "Do you need me to look something over?" I'm hoping she'll hear the annoyance in my voice and leave me alone, but she doesn't seem to get the hint.

"Actually," she purrs, a sinister look in her eyes. "I just wanted to see how your weekend was."

I give her a strange look as I unlock my door and she follows me in. We haven't pretended to like each other since I caught her talking about me, and the way she's staring at me as if I'm prey and she's the predator makes me uncomfortable. "My weekend was nice, thank you for asking." She still doesn't leave as I start to unpack my bag, instead choosing to stand face to face with me.

"Well my weekend was great too. Yesterday I took my niece to the Philadelphia Flower Show, have you heard of it?" I freeze, narrowing my eyes at her. She takes that as a sign to continue. "Well, you must be because I saw you there yesterday with someone I think we are both very familiar with."

We're eye level, her 5 inch heels elevating her to my 5'7 height. "What are you trying to get at Delly? I'm here to work, not to play silly games with you. You know it's professional."

"But Caesar Flickerman might not think so. Don't you think this would make for a nice scandal in the middle of election season?" She shoves her phone in my face, a picture of the short embrace between Peeta and me glaring right at me. I purse my lips, trying to figure out how someone could be so wicked.

I sigh, breaking our eye contact. "What do you want Delly? We're both working on the same campaign, I think we all want the same thing."

"Some of us just want a little more, if you know what I mean." She raises her eyebrows at me, daring to challenge her. She takes a step towards me, lowering her voice so that only I can hear. "If I were you I'd watch your back, skank. I don't think you want this picture to land in the wrong hands. It's one thing to sleep with your boss, it's another to make it public." My hatred for her is threatening to roll off my tongue, but I will myself stay professional.

"Ok Delly," I say, a sudden surge of confidence in my voice. "First things first, I'm not sleeping with Peeta. Second of all, how dare you come into my office, and threaten to get me in trouble with our boss. But you're right about one thing, I'm new here, and I don't want to rock any boats. So I'll back off, ok? But if you ever think of doing this again, I swear to god you'll regret it. Now please, get out of my office."

A triumphant smirk on her face, she turns on her heels and walks out. I slowly lower myself into my chair, an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Delly may have won the battle, but I knew I couldn't afford to lose the war.

* * *

Thank you guys so much for reading! I know this chapter is a little long, I just have so many great ideas for this story. A note on the politics of this story: the fact that Peeta is a democrat is mostly irrelevant. If you happen to hate democrats, please don't hate this story! I just picked one for the sake of accuracy.

Please let me know how you feel about this story in reviews!


	4. Chapter 4

Shaken up by Delly's threat, I do the only thing I know how to do in stressful situations. I completely engross myself in my work, sitting down with my calculator and stack of papers and crunching numbers for the day of play. Math has always come easier to me than socializing skills, one of the main reasons I slightly prefer sitting in my office and working instead of dealing with bitchy women like Delly and Johanna.

As I sit on hold with the catering company, I my mind starts to drift to possible solutions to the Delly problem. One thing I was sure of was that I wasn't going to tell Peeta. He is equally if not more stressed out than I am balancing City Council with his election duties that I know he definitely does not need to deal with petty office drama. Part of me wanted to go to Delly and tell her that she couldn't blackmail me like that, but I knew that she would try and sabotage Peeta's campaign and I couldn't do that to him.

I haven't come up with anything by the time I hear a voice on the other end of the phone, drawing my attention back to my work. I spend the whole morning at my desk alone, forgetting it was even lunchtime until I hear a knock at the door. "Come in!" I call, admittedly grateful for the distraction—creating and going over schedules could only be so interesting.

I smile as Peeta sticks his blonde head in, but his bright smile instantly reminds of my current situation and my smile falls from my face. "Hey, I'm about to head over to City Hall but I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch with me before? The food around here is much better than downtown." His tone was light and friendly, clear that Delly hadn't given him the same speech she'd given me.

I bite my lip, wanting to accept but knowing I can't. "Oh, I have a lot of work to do, I really shouldn't be going out," I offer as a lame excuse.

"We can eat something really quickly in the break room?" He tries again, with a little less enthusiasm.

It makes me sad to see the disappointment on his face as I shake my head once again. "I'm really sorry Peeta, but I'm really behind and I need to get stuff done." I have to stop myself from adding a "maybe next time" to my statement. Without really thinking about it, I realize I've made my decision on what to do myself. Peeta and I can't be friends anymore – the risk is just too great.

Peeta runs his hand through his hair he always does when he's stressed or uncomfortable, finally getting the hint. "Well, alright. See you tomorrow I guess." He leaves the doorway without waiting for me to respond, letting the door slam loudly behind. I groan, holding my hands in my head. It frustrates me to know that Delly is getting exactly what she wants. She's not the first "Delly" I've met – Georgetown l was full of them – spoiled, attractive, rich kids who think they deserve everything in the world and get mad when it's not handed over to them.

I want to spend time thinking about ways to get her back, but the sound of my office phone ringing makes me realize that what I told Peeta wasn't a complete lie, I do have a lot of work to do. I answer it on speaker, picking up my cell phone to send Marvel a quick text to pick me up a chicken avocado sandwich from the deli across the street. "Hello?" I answer into the phone, not bothering to check caller I.D.

A gruff voice answered me. "Ms. Everdeen, my office please? Now?" The sound of Haymitch's voice made me freeze in fear. Had Delly seen Peeta stop by my office and decided I wasn't playing by her rules?

"Uh yes, I will be there in a second," I respond, trying to keep my voice steady before hanging up the phone. I will my breathing to stay even as I walk from my office to his at the end of the long hallway. I pass Delly's cubicle on my way there, grateful that she wasn't there to witness me getting in trouble. My brain comes up with a hundred ways he could fire me before I even arrive in front of the big mahogany doors. I knock, waiting for a response.

"Come in," he says as I let myself in. I want to immediately explain the pictures, and why I was outside of the office with Peeta in a non-professional way, but Haymitch's relaxed position and glass of whiskey tells me he didn't call me in to confront me. "Take a seat and close the door behind you," he said, motioning me to the chair before finishing off his drink.

I hesitantly take a seat, sitting face to face with the man behind this campaign. "Do you need something from me Mr. Abernathy?" I ask, eager to find out the intentions of this meeting. "I can give you a financial update, tell you where we are in terms of spending money and such," I offer.

He doesn't even appear to think my question over before asking me, "Do you want a drink? You're 21 right?"

"Excuse me?" I ask surprised, glancing at the clock above his head. "It's 1 in the afternoon. I've got so much more work to do on the day of play, I couldn't even think of having a drink." I admit to myself that the last part is a lie –a drink sounded perfect, 1 pm or not.

Haymitch shook his head and chuckled at my response. "Never too early for a drink, sweetheart, but I do admire your dedication to your work here. Have you been having any problems adjusting, do you enjoy it here?" He studies me, trying to read my body language the same way I read his.

I was confused why a tispy Haymitch was asking me questions about my work experience, but I answered nonetheless. "This is one of the first jobs that has allowed me to incorporate finance and political science, each day presenting me with a new challenge. To be honest it has been a little stressful, but it's the most fun I've had since college." As the words come out of my mouth, I know they're not lies.

"I'm glad to hear that," he says, mulling my words over. "Well, I just wanted to check in on you. If you ever need some assistance or some alcohol, you know where to find me." His tone, although friendly, told me that he was done talking to me.

Calling a "thank you" behind me, I speed out of his office before he has a chance to change his mind and fire me. I breathe a sigh of relief once I'm outside – no bitch was going to make me lose my job today.

The next morning, I'm woken up by the "Good morning do you want pastries with your coffee" text from Peeta that I've gotten used to in the past three weeks. I type out my usual answer of "Only if they have pumpkin muffins," but stop my disoriented self from hitting send as visions of Delly dance behind my eyelids. I groan, rolling over in bed and deleting the message. I type out "Sorry running late, can't meet," despite knowing that Peeta knows I rarely ever run late.

I drop my phone next to me on the bed, not bothering to look at it as it vibrates with a response from Peeta. I know it's cold to suddenly ignore him like that, but I'm not going to risk his campaign for our newfound friendship. I force myself out of bed to start my routine early – not taking the SEPTA with Peeta means that I have to drive, which is something I've been avoiding doing since being warned by Peeta on my first day.

I skip reading the Philadelphia Inquirer in favor of taking a long shower in the hotel's state of the art bathroom, attempting to organize my thoughts as the hot water rained over me. No matter how many times I try to focus on budgets, scheduling, and spending, my brain can't stop wandering to Peeta, and how it would feel to have his strong arms wrapped around me. What if Delly wasn't completely crazy, and we did really have chemistry? Aside from Madge, he is one of the few people who I've gotten along with so easily in such a short amount of time.

I feel my face heating up as my brain starts to picture what would happen if he was in the shower with me—how I would cling onto his broad shoulders as he held me against the wall, kissing my neck. Only when I hear myself moan out loud do I snap out of my daydream, reminding myself that this is exactly the reason we can't be friends.

I hurry through the rest of my routine, towel drying my wet hair before getting dressed in my usual grey pants and dark colored blouse. Packing my bag, I finally look at Peeta's text from earlier. All it says is "ok," with none of the emojis I had recently showed him how to access on his phone. I sigh before shoving it into my bag along with the rest of my stuff. The more I see him around the office, the harder I know it's going to be. Making sure I have my car keys and room pass, I leave my room, unenthusiastic for the long day ahead of me.

I manage to avoid Peeta for two days before he corners me in the conference room while I'm setting up my laptop for a meeting. I don't even notice him come in until I hear the door close behind him, my eyes instantly locking with his. A surge of guilt rushes over me as I open my mouth. "Oh, hi Peeta," I say, messing around with my flash drive to avoid looking him in the eye.

"Hey, Katniss," he responds, his tone cool. I can't read his expression, but his crossed arms gives me the impression he's not very happy. He walks over to where I'm standing, each step he takes giving me more and more anxiety about what he's going to say. "So, I know this probably isn't the best place or time for this, but I was wondering if I did something to you? You've kind of been brushing me off, and I was wondering if I made you uncomfortable or anything because if so I want to apologize."

I feel my heart melt inside my chest while listening to his words. He truly is one of the nicest guys I've ever met, and I hurts me to brush him off again and say, "No, nothing's wrong. Just busy that's all."

Judging from the skeptical look on his face, he believes my words just as much as I do. "Alright Katniss, I can tell when I'm being blown off. This isn't high school anymore, you don't have to pretend to be my friend." His words hang heavy in the air as his tone shifts from concerned to annoyed. He looks at me expectantly and I open my mouth, wanting to explain, but no words come out. With a sigh, he turns around to walk back to the door.

"Wait," I call, frantic to get him to stop walking. "Ok, listen, I can explain." He doesn't make any moves to get closer to me, but his face tells me that he's willing to listen. I'm not sure where to begin, but the words just fall out of my mouth in a big rush. "Delly saw us together at the flower show and took a picture and threatened to send it to Haymitch and Caesar Flickerman because she thinks that we're too close, and she doesn't like it. I don't know what her deal is, maybe she's had her eyes on you for a while but I don't want to take any chances with this campaign so I think it's best if we stop being friends."

"Is that a joke?" Peeta says, incredulous. When I solemnly shake my head no, he sighs again and rubs this temples. "Jesus fucking Christ," he whispers under his breath, and I can see his anger as he walks back towards me. "This is literally unacceptable, I want her fired." His tone had an air of finality, as if he'd already made up his mind.

"No, no, no don't fire her!" I reluctantly exclaim. Peeta gives me a confused look, waiting for me to explain. "I need her—for right now at least. She's the one organizing the volunteers and creating publicity for the Day of Play this Saturday and I don't need everything falling through." I sigh, biting my lip. "Maybe it's best if we try to be more professional?" Saying that out loud gives me a bad feeling in my stomach that judging from his expression, he feels too.

"You know what? You're right," he admits, but I can hear the reluctance in his voice. "I don't want anyone to think that I have a preference to you or anything just because you're a beautiful woman, or because we grew up in the same town." He slides the first part in casually, the same way he always finds a way to secretly compliment me in our conversations.

I roll my eyes as he flashes me a grin, instantly lightening up the conversation. "Why, Mr. Mellark, that is no way to talk to a coworker! I think I might have to report you to Haymitch!" I joke, inciting a laugh from him that fills the room.

"Well Ms. Everdeen, to avoid further incident, I think I will excuse myself from this conference room. I'll see you later." With that, Peeta nods his head at me one more time before disappearing through the door. I sigh, forgetting all about my presentation. Maybe it was his dimples, or the way his smile fills a room, but I have a feeling that forgetting our friendship might be harder than I thought.

* * *

sorry for the short chapter! i hope you guys like it, things will heat up in the following chapters. thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, favorited and followed, it means so much to me.

please leave a review to let me know what you like, how i can improve, what you think should happen next!


	5. Chapter 5

When my alarm goes off at 4:30 AM on the morning of the Day of Play, I have to use all of my willpower not to hit the snooze button. I groan while rolling out of bed, instantly reminded of all the things I have to do today. The winter sun isn't even close to rising, and I have to be up and out at the Community Center before 5:30 to help set up and oversee decorations.

My team of volunteers, organized by Delly, would be meeting me at 6 at the center. Usually it would be Delly's job to manage the individual volunteers, but she's been especially difficult and hell-bent on making my life a living hell in the past week. I could manage when she "accidentally" forgot to pick up the Mellark 2014 pins I ordered, but I drew the line when she told the volunteers 7 AM instead of 6. From that point, I accepted that I would have to do everything myself.

As I wait for the hotel elevator, I scan through my emails, breathing a sigh of relief when I see responses to the mass email I sent to all the donors last night. Between our announcements on the radio, ads on TV, and flyers around the neighborhood, we are expecting over a hundred fifty families and a handful of major donors. I get a small rush of pride thinking about it – my first job on this campaign, and I've managed not to mess anything up.

I shiver in my coat while I wait for my old jeep to heat up, scolding myself for not remembering to take gloves. I take that moment as an opportunity to check my texts, my heart freezing when I see one from Peeta.

Thank you so much for all your work today. Hope everything goes off smoothly [Delivered 5:08 A.M.]

The text brings a smile to my face, along with a warmth that I can soon feel all the way in my fingertips.

No problem, anything for you [Sent 5:11 A.M.]

I only realize how suggestive that sounds after my thumb presses send, my pre-coffee brain slowly processing my actions. I frantically type out another response:

I mean, anything for the campaign [Sent 5:12 A.M.]

My phone quickly buzzes.

Gotcha. See you later :) [Delivered 5:12 A.M.]

I exhale, resting my head on the steering wheel. What are you doing Katniss? I ask myself, trying to remind myself of my objectives. I came to Philadelphia with the intentions of working on a political campaign, making some money, and getting some name recognition in the political world. Nowhere in my plan was developing any sort of friendship with my boss, let alone one that could become a scandal. I try pushing those thoughts out of my head - today was not the day for boy drama. I fiddle with the radio, turning on 94.5 and pulling out of the hotel parking lot to the sound of Iggy Azalea's "Fancy."

After stopping by a dunkin donuts for coffee, I pull into the community center parking lot where, to my relief, two delivery trucks were waiting for me. I step out into the cold, hurrying to shake the hands of the the three people waiting for me.

"Thank you so much for meeting me here this early," I say graciously. I turn to the two delivery men. "I don't want to keep you guys waiting, so you can just take in all the tables and chairs and decorations and put them in the ballroom."

They gave me silent nods, heading back to their respective trucks where their employees were waiting to start. I turned my attention back to the woman standing in front of me, who had wrinkles at the corner of her eyes.

"Cecelia Engram, I think we spoke on the phone. I'm the head of everything here at Old Pines, and I think what you're doing for this campaign is absolutely wonderful. You know, I've been a fan of you democrats since Carter." I follow her as she moves to unlock the main doors, her greying hair reminding me of my mother.

"Well, I'm sorry to have to drag you out of bed this morning but I can't thank you enough." I respond in an attempt to turn on the charm I save for moments like this.

She turns on the lights as we walk around the center. Just past a receptionists desk, the large foyer is sectioned off into three rooms; one a gym, another an ice skating rink and the last a ballroom. While the delivery men file in behind us, Cecelia starts to give me more information about the center. "Ever since we opened doors almost 30 years ago, we have been dedicated to serving our community. We offer afterschool programs for children, the gymnasium is host to many evening basketball games, and the ballroom is a favorite for conferences. The indoor ice skating rink is a new addition, after the Flyers have a good season a lot of parents look for a cheaper alternative to lessons at Wells Fargo."

I keep nodding politely, finishing off my large coffee by the time we end up back in the foyer. I glance at the large clock hanging on the wall, turning to face Cecelia. "My volunteers should be here about now, so I'm gonna head outside to meet them and give them directions. Once again, thank you for allowing us to host this event here."

"Don't let me keep you from anything dear, you are very welcome." With those words she turns to retreat into her back office, and I turn my attention to the slowly growing group of volunteers.

"Alright guys, we have a lot of things to do. If you can't remember the planned set up, you can refer to the diagram in the email I sent. Chairs and tables are in the ballroom, the boys and girls locker rooms need to be cleaned up and chefs should be here in about an hour." I check my watch again. "We open at 9 - which means we have about three hours to put everything together. So everybody, let's get to work."

All the volunteers and interns scramble to get to work, and I have to keep from rolling my eyes when Delly saunters in, 15 minutes late with a starbucks in her hand. "I'm glad that you decided to grace us with your presence."

"Calm down Everdeen, there was traffic on the Ben Franklin," she says as she breezes past me, her demeanor as cold as the air outside. I take a deep breath, trying to quell my annoyance. Today was going to be a long day.

Effie and Haymitch arrive at 7:30 and Peeta at 7:45, but he's whisked away to hair and makeup and interview prep before I can even say hello. At 8:30 I'm running back and forth between the rooms, making sure the chefs have prepared the right items on the brunch menu, that there are enough basketballs, and that the ice in the rink is hard and fresh.

Delly is being surprisingly helpful, turning on the sweet, cheerful and motivating voice she appears to use with everyone except for me to direct the volunteers. Everything is a big frenzy, and I find myself about to collapse with exhaustion by the time we are all standing outside the center, listening as Peeta gives his opening speech to the TV station cameras and the awaiting crowd.

"As an aspiring politician, I believe that young minds are the future. However, that bright future may possibly be plagued by obesity, a growing problem in society today. Obesity is usually accompanied by diseases like high blood pressure and diabetes, which lead to serious health complications later in life. Doctors recommend that children get at least 60 minutes of exercise a day, but in the winter months that can be hard." My eyes are fixed on him as he speaks, the conviction in his voice effectively charming the crowd and myself. "That is why my campaign thought of the idea of a day of play, to give kids a chance to be active for a day, while also giving adults a chance to get to know me better. I want to make this neighborhood as great as it possibly can, and I hope you enjoy our efforts. Thank you." He flashes the camera a big smile, and the crowd lets out loud claps and cheers.

I clap until my palms sting, feeling a swell of pride as the doors are opened and all the families start flowing in. As everything goes off smoothly, 30 minutes in I find myself nearly falling asleep while standing in the corner of the ballroom in what I think if a perfect hiding spot, until I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Rough morning?" I hear, my eyes meeting with Peeta's blue ones. I scold myself for admitting that his forest green sweater and white grid patterned button down was one of my favorite outfits I've seen him wear. In his hands is a cup of coffee, which he holds out to me.

I smile, hoping it lets him know how thankful I am for it. "This is my third cup of the day, thank you so much," I thank after taking a big sip.

He leans forward on his toes, swatting the air like it's no big deal. "I should be the one thanking you, for putting this whole thing on."

I roll my eyes in an attempt to hide the big smile that appears on my face. "It's my job, Peeta," I say in an attempt to stay modest, my eyes scanning the room over his broad shoulder. "Which reminds me, have you talked to Seneca Crane? He has donated so much money to this campaign."

"Yes Effie," he says mockingly. "You need to relax Katniss, everything is going smoothly, I'm going to talk to everyone." I roll my eyes, and he smiles. "Here, your pin is crooked, let me fix it." His hand is on the Mellark 2014 pin on my chest before I even get a chance to process his words, my heart beat instantly speeding up. My hand instinctively flies up to touch the pin, our hands colliding. Peeta lets out an awkward chuckle, and I can feel the pink tint spreading across my cheeks.

"We're really bad at this staying professional thing, aren't we," I say with a slight smirk as Peeta rubs the back of his neck the way he does whenever he's nervous.

"I do have to admit morning commutes have been rough without you, I'm forced to read the paper myself," he jokes, but I can tell the first part of his sentence is sincere.

I let a loud laugh, slightly relieved to hear that he feels similarly. "I know, I'm making myself even more broke than I already am driving my old shit car around."

"Can we be friends?" He asks, his voice lowered. "I promise I'll stop calling you beautiful, and I'll even start making your pay for your own coffee." I try to scowl, but it quickly changes into a lip biting smile.

I see Effie from across the room, causing me to take a step back from Peeta. Whenever we talk, I always feel myself gravitating closer to him, attracted to the vanilla smell he always carries. "Yes to the name calling, and no to the coffee. Now if you excuse me, I have to go make sure Delly gave the volunteers the right break schedule." I wiggle past him, throwing an uncharacteristic wink over my shoulder.

Before I disappear into the crowd, I see him in the corner sporting the big goofy smile I've grown accustomed to, and I feel my heart flutter. And for the first time, I don't will it to stop.

* * *

Two days later, despite the Day of Play, polls show that voters are still leaning towards Enobaria. I'm still crunching numbers from the Day of Play, trying to figure out who gave how much money we made and where to send thank you cards to. I work late into the night at my desk in my hotel room, my eyes glassy when I look at the clock on the bedside table. The red LED lights flash 11:38, and I feel my blinks getting longer and longer until I hear a knock at the door.

I'm suddenly alert, confused to who would be knocking at my door this late at night. I wipe a bit of drool off of my cheek and tie my hair up in a ponytail as I walk towards the door, slightly disoriented. My eyes widen as I open the door and Peeta Mellark is there, clearly in distress. I open my mouth to ask him what he's doing here, but he cuts me off.

"I'm so sorry to bother you this late but I really need your help." I can tell he's apologetic for bothering me, but I'm more concerned with his loose tie, ruffled hair, and pleading look on his face.

I secretly wish I had chosen more attractive sleepwear than a worn Georgetown t-shirt and black soffe shorts, but I push that thought out of my mind. "With what? Are you ok?"

His eyes open as if he suddenly realizes this probably doesn't count as appropriate, and he tries to take back his words. "Wow, I'm so sorry for bothering you, I'm only now realizing how dumb I probably look. I just, I needed help trying to figure out how to appeal to the people more, and I thought you would be able to help me with your political science background. But if I'm keeping you out of bed, it's totally fine if you don't want to."

As much as I hate losing out on sleep, Haymitch did give all of us tomorrow off so it's not like I have to be up for work tomorrow. I run a hand through my hair and sigh. "No, no, it's totally fine," I say coolly in an attempt to not appear too eager. "I'd love to help."

The two of us walk down the hall to his room, and I'm glad that it's late enough that nobody is out to see me walking around in my pajamas. He explains that he's been going over the campaigns of previous candidates who represented the district in the House of Representatives, but I'm still surprised when I walk in and see the hundreds of pieces of paper spread out in the room.

I give him an incredulous look, and he returns with a sheepish smile. "What can I say, I like to be thorough."

"Thorough is an understatement," I murmur under my breath as I pick of a piece of paper relating to Beetee Morrison's 1998 election. "I mean, I don't know how much help I'll be but I'll definitely give it a shot."

"Thank you so much, you're a life saver." He says thankfully while loosening his tie and taking off the top buttons of his shirt. When he catches me staring, he smirks confidently, which causes me to scowl. "What? I just want to get comfortable. This is going to be a long night."

And he's not wrong - we find ourselves pouring over graphs, voter registration statistics, polls, and more, trying to think of ways to get more votes. 2 am hits, and over my packet of voter trends I see Peeta put his pen and notepad down and let out a large sigh. He looks at me. "This is hopeless, I'm sorry for dragging you out of bed."

I wave him off before a big yawn escapes my mouth. "No, no, don't worry about it. And don't say that, look how much progress we made." I gesture to all of the papers spread around us, now covered in high-lites and post-it notes.

"I'm just so stressed about all of this, you know?" Peeta looks into my eyes as if he was asking if I'm ok with him telling me this. I nod, urging him to continue. "And this is going to sound really childish, but I'm a real bad sore loser." He chuckles at himself, running a hand through his hair.

"I really understand where you're coming from, I get the same way about certain things," I say in an attempt to sympathize. "And you feel kind of selfish sometimes, because you want it so badly and you don't want anyone else to have it."

"Exactly!" Peeta exclaims from his sitting position across the room. "God, I can't even remember the last time someone got me like that."

I rub my temple before I open my mouth. "You want a drink?" I ask, and his face lights up. "Because I need a drink, and I think you need a drink. Let's get you a drink."

Peeta eagerly gets up to grab a bottle from the fridge and glasses from the small kitchen while I attempt to organize the papers around us. I give up when I hear the sound of the cork popping, and get up to meet him in the kitchen. My brain is beyond tired, but being in such close proximity to Peeta keeps me right awake.

"Cheers?" He asks, handing me a glass.

"Cheers," I respond soundly.

One glass of wine turns into 3 glasses of wine, and I soon begin to regret skipping breakfast and lunch. I get that light headed airy feeling too soon, and judging from the way he can't speak a full sentence without messing up, Peeta feels it too. We end up getting through a bottle and a half before I almost drop the bottle and decide to leave it on the counter.

I find myself sprawled out on his king sized bed, holding my sides because I'm laughing too hard. He's sitting next to me, and his impressions of Effie and Delly and some local politicians threaten to get the best of me. I love the way his face lights up when he talks about all the good he can do for other people, drunkenly reciting a mashup of speeches from the last month.

When I sit up and find myself staring at his lips, I have a sinking feeling in my chest when I realize how wrong this is. "I should probably leave," I stutter in the middle of his story about the time he caught Councilman Howard jacking off in the men's bathroom.

Peeta gives me a boyish pout, and I feel like I'm back in freshman year, admiring him from across the cafeteria. "No, stay please," he pleads, reaching his hands out to grab mine and keep me in place.

I shake my head no, not trusting my brain to say the word out loud. Our eyes lock and I feel myself leaning into his touch, yet I'm still surprised when I feel his lips on mine. In reflex I feel my arm wrapping around his neck, pulling me closer to him. His lips are every bit as soft as I imagined, and as I feel his tongue ask permission to enter my mouth I taste the bitter red wine that got us to this place.

When his cold hand moves from the bed to my side, I have a moment of clarity in my drunkenness. I pull back abruptly, slightly panting. "No, no, no, no, this can't happen," I say, frantically pushing him away. "You're my boss!" I slur, throwing my hands in the air.

Peeta looks shocked, a pink tint lining his cheeks. "You can't deny it Katniss, you've felt it too. I don't think I've gotten along with anybody as well as you since I met Finnick in college." I give him a helpless look, my rational side arguing with my heart. "You don't look at Finnick the way you look at me, and he's a fucking greek god. I really want this, and you, so please, let me kiss you."

I'm swayed more by the rise and fall of his broad chest than I am with his speech, but this time when he leans in to kiss me, I don't pull away. He pulls me into his lap, keeping one hand firmly on my ass while another one makes its way up my shirt. My right hand quickly gets tangled in his hair, while my other wraps itself around his neck.

Peeta's lips detach from mine, leaving a trail of fire as he leaves wet kisses on my neck. I whimper slightly as a shudder goes through my body, suddenly realizing the immense need I have for his hands on my body. I peel off my shirt, smiling to myself as he looks at me in awe. "I swear to god you're going to be the death of me," he murmurs in my ear as my hands fumble with the buttons to his shirt.

I stop to laugh, and I feel his hands leave my body to help me with the buttons. It's my turn to look at Peeta's body in awe when it's fully off, his stress exercising clearly paying off. "God help me if you don't kiss me right now," I playfully demand, slightly grinding myself into what I feel is his growing erection.

He lets out a hiss, rolling us over so that he's on top. He supports himself over me with one arm, his lips meeting mine while his other palms my breast. I feel my heart yearning for more as he sucks, nips and kisses with experience that makes me wonder where he learned it from. The train of thought is interrupted by the feel of his fingers on the waistband of my shorts, and I can't help but pull away laughing.

"That tickles!" I exclaim, pushing him off of me. He turns on his side to face me, and I silently study the freckles on his face before rolling over to turn the lights off. "I'm sleepy, let's sleep," I declare before I kiss him on the nose one last time.

"Ok," he agrees and I come closer to him, missing his warmth. I tuck my head under his chin and inhale his scent, and I slowly find myself falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

I wake up three hours later confused as to why there's a shirtless Peeta Mellark in bed with me, certain I'm still a little drunk. I sit up, careful not to wake the sleeping blonde next to me. He shifts when I squirm out of his tight grasp, but stays asleep. I quickly spot my t-shirt on the ground, along with the forgotten papers of the night before.

I feel guilty leaving his bed in the middle of the night, but my need to get back to my room before people can see me outweighs the guilt. I plant a kiss on his cheek before turning on my heel, and quietly closing the door behind me.

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bam! hope you guys enjoy this chapter, don't forget to leave a review!


	6. Chapter 6

Hi guys! Beware, there is some smut in this chapter, but it's nothing too graphic. Enjoy!

* * *

The second I get into my own room, I strip of all my clothes, unable to shake the feeling of Peeta's hands on my body. I grab my phone and text Madge to call me later, knowing that I'm going to freak about last night when I'm fully sober. I plug my phone in before heading into the bathroom, turning the heat up on the shower before stepping in.

I take my hair out of its ponytail and let the stream hit my body, the water sobering me up. I can't tell how long I stand in the shower for, but by the time I get out all the mirrors are fogged and my fingers are starting to prune. My hands automatically go to braid my wet hair, and I rub a spot in the mirror so I can see myself.

On the outside I'm the same Katniss Everdeen - my hair is the same dark brown, my lips the same pink, my skin the same olive. However on the inside, I can't help but feel completely different. Ever since a bad experience in college, men and relationships have always been at the bottom of my list of priorities, but something about Peeta makes me want to reconsider it. I almost think of a pros and cons list before I tell myself I'm being ridiculous and leave the bathroom.

I remind myself I'm here for one purpose only - to help Peeta Mellark win a seat in congress.

By the time I'm fully dressed in Madge's old long sleeve John Hopkins shirt and thick cotton leggings, the 7 AM Good Day Philadelphia is on. I try to focus on the hosts' friendly banter, but every few seconds my eyes dart to the clock and I wonder if he's awake yet. The same thing happens when I try to read the Philly Inquirer on my iPad, and it doesn't help when a picture of Peeta outside of the Day of Play pops up. I groan, turning my iPad off and putting it on my nightstand.

My phone buzzes with a text message, and I quickly scan the words from Madge.

_iChat? [Delivered 7:48 AM] _

I open my laptop and open the application, fixing my hair while I wait for it to load. Before everything is even fully opened I get a video chat request from Madge, whose account picture is still a selfie of the two of us from sophomore year. I accept, instantly smiling when I see her face through the screen.

"I have so much to tell you, oh my fucking god," I let out in one breath.

"Well, hello to you too," she mocks, her blonde hair in a bun. I can tell she's sitting at the dining table in Gale's kitchen from the weird artwork hanging behind her. "Whats up?"

I rub my temples, trying not to cringe at the story. "Ok so, Peeta and I hooked up." I pause for the scream she emits, can't help but feel slightly proud at the way her jaw drops. "And we were drunk, and I knew it was wrong but everything just felt so right. Like you know me, I've never been the "fuck the boss type" but I think I'm both glad and upset that I didn't? And you're gonna kill me, but I left him in his bed and went back to my own room and now I don't know what to do."

The smug smile that remains on her face is enough to make me scowl, but I just hug my pillow closer instead of telling her off. "First of all," she says with her finger up. "I told you so. I know how much you hate when I say that, so I said it and now I'm over it. Second of all, congratulations. He is super fucking hot."

"I know right," I feel giddy just saying that in a way nobody has made me feel in a long time.

"Who's hot?" I hear Gale ask from offscreen, and I groan realizing he heard everything I said.

"Just Katniss' boss babe," Madge says, turning to him. She gives me an apologetic look, but I'm too distressed to pretend to be mad at her. "Ok, so what's the deal. Do you like him, or are you just attracted to him?"

I consider her words. "Both I guess? Ugh, I just hate saying it out loud because it just seems so unprofessional. I don't want to be recognized for sleeping with my candidate, you know? I am not Monica Lewinsky."

Madge rolls her eyes at my overdramatization. "He's not married, so you can't be Katniss. In my opinion, this is the most open I've seen you talk about any guy since He Who Shall Not Be Named, so you clearly like something about him. From what you describe he has a major crush on you too, so I think you just have to get all your cards on the table and be super honest with each other." I mull over her words as Gale says something to her off screen, tapping my fingers on my computer anxiously when she turns back to me. "I would love to sit and talk with you about this, but I have a yoga class in a couple of minutes."

"Yoga?" I ask, my nose wrinkled. Yoga and pilates were some of the things we always wanted to try, but were either too broke or lazy to do.

Madge nods and smiles. "Mmmhm," she hums before leaning in close to the computer and lowering her voice. "I can't even tell you how much better it's made sex, you should really try it."

I make fake choking noises and she laughs at my struggle. "You're disgusting, I'll talk to you later after you and Gale are done having your post-yoga wild animal sex. Thanks so much for the advice, I'll let you know how it goes. Love you," I say with a wave.

"Love you too," she responds, and the video chat closes.

I hop out of bed and start pacing back and forth like I always do when I'm nervous. It's 8:30 before I make the decision to go to Peeta's room, and apologize for leaving him last night. I grab my room key and storm out of the room, loosing all my momentum when I fling my door open and Peeta is standing on the other side.

He looks as shocked as I do, staring at me blankly before recovering. "Oh, um, hi Katniss," he stutters, avoiding eye contact.

"Hey," I respond, suddenly nervous. We stand in silence for a few seconds before he remembers that he came here with a plan.

"Well, I just want to apologize for my completely inappropriate behavior towards you last night. I'm so sorry if I made you uncomfortable, those were not my intentions," he goes off, words spilling out of his mouth. I feel my heart sink in my chest. Did he regret it? Was he here to tell me he doesn't like me? I almost breathe a sigh of relief when I hear him say, "But if anything, everything I said to you last night was true."

It's my turn to stare at him blankly, the words processing in my brain. Everything I said to you last night was true. He shuffles in his place, waiting for me to respond. "Oh," I say, snapping out of my trance. "You should probably come in." I wave Peeta inside, shutting the door behind him.

We sit on my bed and I can tell he has more to say by the way he nervously drums his fingers on my comforter, sighing before speaking. "Since you invited me inside, I'm going to take that as a sign to continue to embarrass myself. So, if you haven't figured it out already, I think you're super intelligent and incredibly sexy and I'm _so_ attracted to you," he confesses in one big breath. My heart flutters listening to him describe me that way, and nearly stops when he grabs my hand. He looks at me expectantly as I open and close my mouth, trying to find the right words to say.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel that way too, but you're technically my boss Peeta. Don't you remember what happened when Delly thought we were sleeping with each other? Gossip spreads like wildfire in politics, and I don't want to known as a Lewinsky." I feel selfish just saying it, putting my career over my love life.

Peeta tries to hide his disappointment, but latches on to my hesitance. "Then we could keep it a secret," he says, trying to read my expression as I contemplate his suggestion. "I'm sorry if I'm coming off too strong, it's just that I've never connected with someone the way I do with you and I'd regret it my whole life if I never tried to pursue it."

I can almost feel the innocence and honesty radiating off of him and suddenly I'm angry, not at Peeta, but at myself. The last time any guy was this emotionally open with me I ruined him the same way I always ruin everything good around me. I can't stop telling myself I don't deserve anyone as good as Peeta, yanking my hands out of Peeta's and curling my nails into my palm and cover my face with my hands.

He looks shocked and unsure what to do when the tears start streaming my face, but I try and wave him off. "I'm sorry," I say, trying to wipe my nose. "I'm all trouble Peeta, you should stay away from me. I'm only going to hurt you." My vulnerability is almost palpable in the room, the only sounds my soft sobs.

I feel Peeta's arms hesitantly wrap themselves around me, rubbing small circles on my back. I struggle to regain my composure when he starts whispering in my ear saying, "It's ok Katniss. Don't cry. I think you're great, and nothing will change that." I listen to his heart beat while trying to steady my breaths, the constant thumps soothing me.

When my whimpering stops, Peeta pulls away from me enough to tuck a stray hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on my jaw. "You ok?" He asks, wiping a tear from my cheek with his thumb.

I respond in the only way I can, by pressing my lips to his and clinging onto him like he's the only thing holding me to the the bed. Peeta quickly responds, his hands finding their way to my hips and pulling me on top of him. I kiss him in a frenzy, and he readily takes off his shirt when my hands journey south. Mine soon joins his on the floor, the room suddenly becoming too hot.

My lips move from his mouth to his neck, and we're both surprised by the growl and buck of his hips that comes when I lightly bite on his ear. "Sorry," he says, panting.

"Don't apologize," I whisper into his ear before kissing a path down his toned chest. I can only describe the look on his face as awe when I stroke him over his pants, but I soon feel his hand stopping mine and pulling me back up for a kiss.

"Ladies first," Peeta commands before he flips us over so that he's on top. He looks at me for permission as his hands play with the waistband of my leggings, which I readily give to him in the form of a kiss. He sits back on his haunches as he slowly peels off my pants, leaving me in only my simple cotton thong.

I could swear that I see his eyes darken, and I have to press my legs together to relieve the pressure his glare gives me. He seems unsure of what to touch first, so I reach behind me and shrug my bra off before grabbing his hands and guiding it to my chest.

His hands and mouth roam my body, and I'm uncharastically willing when he commands me to spread my legs. He keeps eye contact with me as his lips kiss down my body, pausing again for permission when his fingers meet him at my core. "Yes, yes, yes," I say urgently, lifting my hips to remove the barrier between us.

I suddenly remember I forgot to shave but Peeta doesn't seem to mind, pressing light kisses on my bundle of nerves. I grab a fist full of comforter to stop myself from screaming out loud, but I can't help but moan loudly at the feel of his tongue and fingers.

When I come I have to keep my eyes from rolling into the back of my head, my eyes clenched shut so hard that I see stars. I repeat his name like a chant, breathing heavily as I come down from my high. "You're so fucking perfect," I hear him mutter before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

I hook my arm around his neck to pull him back into a kiss, tasting myself on his tongue. I feel him hard against my thigh, and I pull back enough to look him in the eye. "There are condoms in the TV stand," I say quickly before I change my mind.

"You sure you want to do this?" Peeta asks, his innocence shining through. I nod vigorously, sending him a reassuring smile. He moves quicker than ever and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. When he's fully stripped I have to pull my eyes away from his shaft, but I'm not fast enough because he catches me and smirks. "Like the view?"

I spread eagle on the bed, sending him a smirk of my own. "Like the view?" We both laugh, but they quickly die down when he pushes himself into me, his head hanging in the crook of my neck and my legs wrapped around his hips. Our moans come together as he stretches me, Peeta looking for approval before he starts thrusting.

I can tell when he's about to come from his breath hitches and erratic thrusts, which brings about my second orgasm. Its his turn to moan my name over and over again, but I'm too deep in my own release to appreciate it. Peeta pulls me into a deep kiss before he pulls out and rolls off of me.

We cuddle after he pulls the condom off and pulls the comforter over us. "To be honest, I've never had that type of emotional connection during sex before," I confess, turning to face him.

I can tell he's fading fast, but the sleepy smile he gives me is enough to speed up my heart beat. "I've wanted to do that since the moment I ran into you in the hallway," he breathes before wrapping his arm around me. It's nine in the morning, but I'm perfectly content falling asleep in Peeta's arms.

When we wake up in the early afternoon, I can tell Peeta wants to talk about what went down between us. "You want to order room service while I go clean myself up?" I don't tell him that I think the smell of sex is incredibly sexy on him, but instead point him to the bathroom.

I roll to the side to grab my phone, only feeling slightly childish at my urgent need to update Madge on what happened.

_Maybe I should invest in yoga classes? ;) [Sent 2:05 PM]_

_My phone instant buzzes with a response._

_! HOLY SHIT [Delivered 2:06 PM]_

_YOU FUCKED HIM. I'M SO PROUD OF YOU! [Delivered 2:06 PM]_

_Did he give you the big O? [Delivered 2:06 PM]_

_Twice… i'll call you later [Sent 2:07 PM]_

I put my phone back down on the nightstand and stumble out of bed, pleasantly surprised when I feel a dull ache between my legs. I haven't had sex this good since the beginning of my relationship with He Who Shall Not be Named, and even then I never came twice.

I'm still naked when Peeta comes out of the bathroom in his boxer briefs, and I see him raise his eyebrow before coming to wrap his arms around me from behind. "If I had known it would lead to this, I would have gotten drunk with you a long time ago," he murmurs into my ear.

I crane my neck to the side to look at him and smile, and he presses a kiss to my lips. "What do you want to eat?" I ask, opening the room service menu. "You know, aside from me," I say jokingly, receiving a loud laugh from Peeta.

We end up ordering two burgers and a large fries to split, and I change into a complimentary bathrobe before we sit down to talk. "So…" Peeta starts, giving me time to speak. I sigh before I start.

"If it wasn't apparent from that truly amazing sex we just had, I really like you," I pause, trying to think of what to say. "I just have a really bad track record with boyfriends. Every relationship I've ever had has ended up in heartbreak, so I hope you understand why I'm not jumping to get into another one."

"So then, what are we?" Peeta asks hesitantly, still tracing circles on my hand. "What is this to you?"

I lean into kiss him, ruffling his hair a bit. "I don't know. It feels to weird to put a label on it, you know? But it like it, and I like you, and that's enough for me. Just as long as nobody finds out about it." I see Peeta's face fall slightly, but he quickly masks it like a good politician.

"Sounds good to me."

Despite my refusal to label it, our relationship steadily grows. I like the way I am when I'm around him - confident, more relaxed, happier. His always positive outlook quickly rubs off on me, and I find myself more motivated to eat better and work out more. He makes me feel good about myself by constantly calling me beautiful and listening to me in ways nobody ever has.

We spend late nights together after work and I find myself telling Peeta about my dad, and how after he died my mom checked out completely. He doesn't judge me when I tell him I worked so hard in school because we couldn't afford food, let alone college.

Peeta reassures me I wasn't the only one with family secrets, telling me how his brothers never really cared about him and how his mom was handy with a rolling pin. When he shows me some of the scars she left him with, I kiss every single one, and tell him that I'll make sure she never hits him again.

The intimacy we have with each other amazes me, still surprised how every time he touches me I feel like I'm on fire. We quickly familiarize ourselves with each others bodies, and I learn that if I bite his ear he'll get hard, and he learns that neck kisses make me purr.

Despite all the fun we have, it's not like we lose sight of the campaign. As soon as we step into the office, we act completely professional. Only occasionally will he stop by my office for lunch, and when he does he disguises it under needing to be briefed on fundraising. It's annoying to watch Delly faun over Peeta, but I get satisfaction knowing that I'll see him in my bed that night.

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Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, and favorited this story. I love feedback, so tell me what you think works/doesn't work in this story. The next chapter is going to have a lot of fluff!


	7. Chapter 7

A month passes by, and election work only gets more intense as we hit the end of March. Tasked with planning a last minute dinner for Peeta and campaign donors, I told Peeta I couldn't come over every night for the past week because I either needed to work or was exhausted. That's why when I finally find myself in his shower with him, we're both reluctant to answer the persistent knock at the door.

"Forget about it babe," Peeta whispers huskily, his hands all over my body. "If it's room service they'll leave it outside." I try to listen to his words as his lips kiss up and down my neck, but the knocking persists. "I swear to god I'm going to kill whoever's behind that door," he groans, clearly as annoyed as me.

I sigh, wiggling out of Peeta's grasp. "I'll just answer it real quick, I don't want you to scar whoever's there," I say, gesturing to his very erect penis. He chuckles before kissing me on the cheek before I step out, dripping wet. I wrap myself in a towel before venturing out of the hot bathroom, quickly grabbing a few bills from my wallet before answering the door.

When I open it and realize I'm standing near naked, in Peeta's hotel room, in front of Finnick Odair, I feel every ounce of blood rush out of my body. He seems just as surprised as I do, his jaw dropping before turning into a smug smile. "Holy fucking shit, I knew you guys were fucking!" I'm still speechless as he pushes his way in the room, now trying to suppress a hysterical laugh. "Peeta! Peeta! You have some explaining to do!"

I hear the sound of the shower shutting off, and Peeta's confused voice. "Babe, who is it?" He calls before walking into the room, equally surprised as me to be face to face with Finnick wearing only a towel hanging low on his hips. "What the fuck?" He asks, looking from me to his best friend.

"I thought it was room service, I'm sorry I'm dumb," I panic, my heart thumping in my chest. Peeta sighs, and when he moves towards me I flinch like he's going to hit me.

Instead he wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close before whispering, "It's ok," in my ear.

"So when were you going to tell me?" Finnick asks, amused by Peeta's display of affection. "Actually, I think the better question is how long has this been going on?"

Peeta and I look at eachother, both unsure of the answer. "Like a month, maybe a little more?" He offers with a shrug. I'm in awe about how casually he's handling the reveal of what was supposed to be our big secret, and something about Finnick's smile makes me uncomfortable.

Finnick scoffs, clearly more annoyed about the secret keeping than the secret itself. "Is that a joke?" He tries to use the same playful tone he always uses, but it's not hard to tell that he's slightly hurt.

"Finnick, I'm sorry. I'm sure you know how bad it would look if everyone on the campaign knew we were together, we had to keep it a secret. It's not that I didn't trust you, I do. And I'm trusting you right now not to tell anyone."

We can both tell that Peeta's using political level sweet talk on Finnick, but for the sake of their 10-year friendship, he buys into it. "Alright," he says, putting his hands up. "Well, this is really weird, so I'm going to head out. I'll catch you guys tomorrow." Finnick's exit leaves us in silence, and I look at Peeta, unsure of what to do or say.

"Do you wanna get back in the shower?" Peeta suggests after blowing out a large breath.

I look at him like he's crazy, unsure how he stays so calm. "Are you not freaking out? Finnick just caught us literally almost naked." He shrugs, taking my lack of response as a no and starts walking towards the dresser.

"I mean it's Finnick, I've seen him in less. Guy practically gets naked whenever he has the chance. But he's my best friend, he won't tell anybody." And just like that, Peeta's already over it.

I know I should have the same relaxed attitude, but I can't help but being annoyed at his nonchalant behavior. "It's easy to not care when it's not your career," I mutter under my breath, searching the room for the clothes I wore over. He sends a questioning glance in my direction, clearly hearing my words. I dress instead of responding, not bothering to ask for a shirt like I always so whenever I sleep over. "You know what, I'm really tired. I think I'm going to go back to my room," I say, already making a beeline for the door.

I'm leaving to try and avoid starting a fight, but as usual, one starts to emerge anyway. "Katniss if you're mad just say so, don't just storm out and pretend like you're not." I can tell from his tone of voice that he's not mad either, just irritated and tired.

"I'm not mad, I just don't think you understand how this could affect the both of us and your campaign." I know I'm coming off as whiny but I can't help it, and I stand with my point.

Peeta subtly rolls his eyes and uncrosses his arms before pulling down the covers to get into bed. "Look, Katniss. We've talked about this so many times. I'm not in the mood to fight with you because we both know that I care so theres no point in arguing. I'm gonna go to sleep and you are free to join me and if you don't, have a good night and I'll see you tomorrow." He pulls down the sheets on the side closer to me before climbing in himself.

I cave pretty quickly, a good nights sleep with Peeta outweighing sleeping in my own bed. His eyes are shut by the time I climb in with him in only my underwear, but I can tell he's still awake by his uneven breaths. Peeta adjusts his arm to hold me close to him, and I press an apologetic kiss to his neck.

"I know you care, sorry for trying to pick a fight." If theres anything I hate doing it's apologizing, but with Peeta it feels different.

He doesn't respond immediately and I think he might be asleep, but he eventually kisses me on my nose in return. "It's ok. I'm sorry I wasn't empathetic enough." I hear the words come out of his mouth and my heart swells, and I can't help but ask myself what I did to find someone like Peeta.

Another week passes before we both have a free morning, my first meeting not until 1PM and his at 12. We're sitting in my bed, he's reading the Philly Inquirer and I'm reading the Economist on my iPad. I'm humming the Good Day Philly theme song when I catch Peeta staring at me. "Would it be so bad?" He asks, looking up at me.

"Would what be so bad?" I ask, my eyes still scanning the screen.

I can hear him suck in his breath, and I realize that I already know what he's going to say. "If we, you know, dated. For real. I'm not providing you any benefits to you job, you're smart, qualified, attractive," he goes off, trying to sugar coat it. His voice lacks the confidence it usually has, and I can tell he's afraid of my answer.

"And Effie would have a heart attack." My tone signifies finality, but I feel bad when I see the small smile drop from his face. I sigh, putting the iPad down and facing him. "Peeta, I'm sorry. You know I… you know how I feel about you, but we talked about this." I hope he drops it because I'm not in the mood to get into another fight, but his expression tells me that he won't.

Peeta tries again, attempting to wear me down by a new argument. "But what's really the problem? I'm not married, I'm not in a relationship."

"What if I don't test well?" I snap, tired of giving explanations. "What if the public doesn't like me? I couldn't live with myself if I was the person to blame for you not winning this race."

"Fuck the race," he exclaims, grabbing my hand. "Fuck everything, I don't care. I want to be with you, don't you want to be with me too?" I nod, but he continues before I have a chance to respond. "I want to go on a date that doesn't involve room service. I want to be seen with you outside and hold your hand so everyone knows you're mine. I know you feel the same way," he pleads, trying to play off of my emotions.

I know it's the adrenaline rush he always gets when he talks about the future, but I can't help but look into his blue eyes and understand everything he's trying to day. I don't even mull it over, and throw all caution to the wind. "Fine," I say with a sigh. "I'll allow it." The way he looks at me like it's Christmas Day makes me feel like any potential issues are worth it, and the way he kisses me makes me feel like I never want him to let go.

The meeting we know we have to schedule with Haymitch and Effie is significantly less pleasant, with Peeta having to bribe me with the promise of baked goods to get me out of bed and in the office. "You ok?" He asks when he sees me shaking outside of Haymitch's office.

"Let's just get this over with," I say with a sigh, pushing the door open. Haymitch and Effie sit behind the big mahogany desk, as intimidating as ever. Haymitch looks like Effie just said something to piss him off, while Effie looks like she would much rather be somewhere else. I catch Peeta's nervous look before we both sit down.

"I hope you're not here to waste my time," Haymitch grumbles, glaring in my direction. "Hurry up, I've got a meeting downtown in 20 minutes."

I stutter but Peeta swoops in smoothly, coming in with the speech I know he prepared. "Well Haymitch, Effie the reason I requested this meeting today was to formally let you know that Katniss and I have begun to engage in a personal relationship. In no way has this affected anything about my work or hers, and we fully intend to remain strictly professional regarding any campaign matters."

I try to read their reactions - Effie is clearly shocked, but I'm both confused and relieved when Haymitch starts laughing. He doesn't stop until Peeta clears his throat. "Oh I'm sorry," Haymitch says, his chuckles dying down. "We've had a plan for this ever since Delly came in here with her nonsense weeks ago. While I do appreciate the honesty, it's not as bad as you think."

"Delly came to you?" I say in disbelief. "And you didn't fire me?"

Haymitch gives me a confused glance, like I'm the one not making any sense. "And lose one of the best fundraising chairs I've seen in a long time? I know you're dedicated to this job, thats why I didn't mention it. I told her to mind her own damn business and get out of my office." He laughs again at the memory, shaking his head with a smile.

Effie regains her composure and starts shuffling through papers. "While we are not going to fire you, we do have a request. You must tell the public before they find out. I suggest a series of high profile dates, but the choice is yours. We don't want Enobaria turning this into a scandal."

"Now you kids get out of here," Haymitch says, apparently done with this conversation. "Peeta, you have debate prep at 3. We have less than a week before you go face to face with Enobaria."

* * *

News of our relationship spreads quickly through the office, and I'm the subject of stares, whispers from people who had all but ignored me the last two months. Unsurprisingly, Peeta handles it much better than I do, playing it off and changing the topic whenever asked about it.

"So Councilman Mellark, how do you plan to support the growth of small businesses in the area while also supporting large economic growth?" I ask as we sit in his bed the night before the debate.

He thinks for a second, and I have to keep from smiling at the cute face he makes. "I believe that small businesses are the backbone of our economy. It is the everyday people who make huge differences in our lives. As your congressman I want to inact bills cutting taxes for these businesses so they can invest more in their products and advertising and bring in more consumers. We can cut those taxes by making sure money is being spent on the right things - and with my close ties to City Hall, I am able to help make these decisions." I nod in approval at his response.

"A+. You mentioned small businesses, tax cuts and the fact that you are city councilman. You're making the crowd familiar with yourself while also giving details about your future plans."

"Have I ever told you how much I love it when you keep your hair down?" He asks, hanging his arm over my shoulder and twirling it in his finger.

I roll my eyes, but accept the kiss he gives as he leans down. "I think I'm the one asking the questions here," I reply, brushing his comment off. "Ok, next. Councilman Mellark, you are remarkably young at only 29 years old. How are you qualified to represent this district?"

"Well I'm sure you're not looking for a resume," he starts, but I cut him off.

"Never correct the voter, or make any assumptions. You also risk coming off as cocky by listing all of your accomplishments, so I suggest you change the topic to something about how you are open to ideas and more in touch with the youth, who are the future," I say, trying to recall my endless political science classes.

Peeta groans, already agitated. "Look, I've been trained by some of the best debaters. I don't need you to tell me what's right and what's wrong, I think I'm prepared to handle anything she throws at me." His tone comes off as unnecessarily sharp, and I scowl, not in the mood to be invalidated.

"Fine," I snap back, annoyed. "We'll see how well you do tomorrow." I hear him sigh when I turn around and settle into bed, facing away from him.

"Katniss," he breaths, exasperated. "You know I wasn't trying to-you know that's not what I meant," he stutters, struggling to find the right words. When I still don't respond he gives up, rolling over and turning off the lights.

As I stand behind stage with Haymitch and Effie the next day, I'm not surprised that Enobaria came with her teeth sharpened. They go hard on topics like health, public works, funding , and I have to admit Peeta holds his ground well. It's impossible to gage the crowd's reaction, but when I hear my name come out of Enobaria's mouth, I can tell things are taking a turn for the worst.

"I for one like to keep my personal life and my professional life separate, unlike Councilman Mellark. Instead of focusing on the issues that matter, like the state of our parks department or our public schools, he has strayed from his duties and begun a relationship with his campaign's fundraising chair, Katniss Everdeen. As your representative I promise to stay focused and be in touch with my constituents as much as possible."

I look to Effie who looks to Haymitch, who seems not at all surprised at Enobaria's name drop. "It's a low blow, but it doesn't surprise me. She was the CFO of Philly's biggest real estate company before serving as head of the school board, and she didn't get there without ripping out a few throats. I just hope Peeta can get his head out of his ass and form a real response."

The crowd becomes restless at the attack and the moderator asks for quiet. "Councilman Mellark, do you have a response?"

"Well Boardwoman Meyers," he stutters, facing towards Enobaria. "I think that my personal life is not something that should be discussed with the people, we should be focusing on-" he starts, but she cuts him off.

"How can the people vote for you if they don't know anything about you? How can you be trusted to be a crusader for this district's issues when you are young and reckless? This district needs someone with experience, someone who knows how to fight for what she wants. And that candidate, is me."

Enboaria's words - while blatantly overconfident - causes a stir in the crowd. I see nodding heads in agreement, and I can tell this debate is heading south. And from the way he keeps rubbing the back of his neck, Peeta knows it too. I turn to look at Haymitch but he's already gone, yelling at his assistants for his notes to see if he can find something against Enobaria.

Peeta opens his mouth to respond, but the moderator cuts him off. "I'm sorry Councilman Mellark, but we must take a short break. We will resume in five minutes," he speaks to the camera, which is streaming the debate live on local television.

Enobaria smirks at Peeta as she steps off the podium, and I feel all the anger I had at Peeta from last night disappear and reappear towards her. Before he even is fully backstage I can tell his confidence is already shot. He gives me a look and I start to walk towards him, but Haymitch descends upon him before I get a chance.

"What the hell do you think this is kid?" His tone is angry, but I can tell it comes from a place of concern. "I don't know if you realized it, but she is wiping the floor with you. Yes, we know that she hits hard but that is no excuse for whatever you think you're doing up there. This debate isn't for fun, it is for the democratic nomination. This debate is for that congress seat- your future. If you don't want it anymore, fine, we can walk out of here right now and forget the last five months happened." His tone drops, and I have to strain my ears to hear his words from my position a few feet away. "But I know you, and I know you want this. So don't throw it away because she made a jab at sweetheart. Hit her right back."

Peeta instantly hardens like he's being scolded by his father - he stands up taller, his face is stern, and he does not dare talk back. "Yes Haymitch," he responds, slowly nodding his head as he is processing his words. "Thank you."

Haymitch glances at me out of the corner of his eye, and lets out a sigh. "You've got two minutes to talk to her, just don't forget to get your head out of your ass." I roll my eyes, but I forget about him as soon as I look Peeta in the eyes.

"I'm sorry I was a dick to you last night, I promise-" he starts, but I wave him off.

"You're getting your ass kicked in a debate and you're worried about if you hurt my feelings?" My remark brings a smile to his face, and I see him slightly relax. "Listen," I command, grabbing a hold of his hands. "I'm ok. We are ok. But right now, you need to focus on this debate. Enobaria will continue to bring up your age, and you have to keep reminding the crowd that your young age is a benefit. You are more in touch with society, growing up in the early 90's recession has taught you fiscal responsibility, you are more open to new ideas." I rattle the list off the top of my head, hoping he's understanding what I'm saying. "All you have to show them is what you've shown me and this entire campaign- that you're smart, hardworking, and willing to do anything for this district."

And I don't have anything more to say, so I steady my hands on his shoulder and press my lips softly to his. "You can do this," I reaffirm, brushing off his suit. "Just remember what I said."

"That's everything I needed to hear, thank you." Before his sentence finishes coming out of his mouth someone is already pulling him away from me, and pushing him towards the stage. I can tell he's ready by the way he doesn't look back, marching headfirst back into the debate.

* * *

Sorry this update took me so long! I've been busy, and haven't had time to post. Please review to let me know how you feel about this story!


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